


Time Bomb

by SongOfMarbule



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-10-10 14:04:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17427305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SongOfMarbule/pseuds/SongOfMarbule
Summary: For as long as Prompto could remember, the bizarre mark he had on his wrist - a countdown clock depicting when he would apparently meet his 'destined person' - haunted him. Choosing to defy fate and call the whole 'soulmate' thing a bunch of mumbo-jumbo, Prompto lived his life happily with the mark concealed by a wristband for many years, not giving it a second thought. Until one day, when time once again wasn't on his side, he discovered that the numbers were far lower than he last remembered...





	Time Bomb

**Author's Note:**

> Life had tried to do everything in its power to prevent me from participating in Promnis Week, but somehow I was able to get this out and I'm super happy! Based on an idea during a chat between me and Godspoison the other week, and inspiration from Walk the Moon's new single 'Timebomb'... I hope you enjoy this little something!

_ Tick, tick, tick. _

For as long as he could remember, Prompto swore that he could hear that incessant sound in the back of his mind.

_ Tick, tick, tick. _

The ticking almost seemed like it was in unison with the strange, ever-changing numbers written along the underside of his right wrist, like the barcode of an indecisive box of cereal.

A countdown.

_ Tick, tick, tick. _

According to everyone he knew, those numbers were counting down to a meeting. A meeting... with someone he’d never even met. And they were changing. Constantly. Counting down, counting up, sometimes even freezing in time; every single day it was different, with no consistency or pattern to follow in sight.

Prompto knew it was a thing - that in this world, as the story went, people were filed off into pairs long before they were even aware of each other’s existences. Some preferred to call it something flowery like ‘soulmates’, but Prompto knew better. It was all superstition - after all, how was something like this even possible? Just who was it that decided that because you happened to have a heart-shaped birthmark on your ass in the same spot as someone else on the other side of the continent, it meant you were destined for one another? That if, assuming you’d actually ever  _ meet _ this person, you would fall head over heels in love and that it would guarantee a happily ever after with this random stranger?

It was completely ludicrous, and yet everyone Prompto knew believed it.

In Prompto’s case, his unique mark wasn’t a heart-shaped butt stamp. It wasn’t even something cool like a music note or a lyric to a song; heck, he would have taken a gigantic, hairy mole plain on his face instead of this. At the very least, a hairy mole would just hang out on his face every single day, never changing, a constant in his life. But this? Even if it was cool that it was animated, it was just… ominous. Stressful. Something he constantly had to think about.

Prompto had always compared the strange numbers on his wrist to a ticking time bomb, counting down to something he didn’t even believe in.

When he was twelve, his best friend, Noctis, found his ‘soulmate’ when a foreign exchange student from Tenebrae walked into their classroom one morning, sporting the same ring-shaped mark on her finger that Noctis had. 

Meanwhile, Prompto had practically torn the calculator out of his book bag and did the math, using the numbers that were currently displayed on his wrist. According to the current number of hours and minutes, assuming this wasn’t all just a bunch of hooey of course, Prompto was supposed to meet this ‘destined person’ of his....

...thirteen years from now.

Thirteen. Years.

And that was under the assumption that those damn numbers wouldn’t change again like they always did. Would it really be thirteen? Or would it be twenty tomorrow? Thirty?

Later that day, when Prompto got home from school, he’d sealed away his ticking time bomb with a wristband, where it remained hidden every single day for the years to come. He hadn’t been sure why he hadn’t done it sooner - living his days without the distraction of those annoying changing numbers and the stress of  _ Why was it always changing? Why was it counting up today and down yesterday? _ made his life a heck of a lot less stressful.

He eventually forgot all about his hidden ticking time bomb when he graduated high school and entered college. The wristband had become almost like his trademark, a fashion accessory that somehow went with every single one of his outfits, and what was hidden beneath didn’t even cross his mind, even when he slid it off for his showers. 

He just didn’t care anymore. What did the numbers say today? Who knew, who cared?

_ Tick, tick, tick. _

Sometimes, though, he heard the ticking in his dreams.

Time had never really been on Prompto’s side, in a literal and coincidental sense. He found he was always missing amazing opportunities, like job offers, by just a thread. Even in his love life, which he found fulfilling despite the silly ‘soulmate’ thing lingering over everyone else’s heads was affected, missing the chance to ask someone out before they were scooped up by someone else. Despite it all, though, Prompto kept his head up, choosing to focus on his newfound photography interest instead of his daily woes. Everyone had bad luck sometimes, right? ‘Bad Luck Prompto’ sort of had a ring to it, didn’t it?

One particular thing in his life, though, was filled with bad luck to the brim, and that was his arch nemesis: public transportation.

He didn’t have his driver’s license - not yet, he still had too much debt to justify buying a car - so he walked and took the bus everywhere he needed to go. It worked out just fine for the most part; everything was within walking distance, he had a bus pass that could get him across the city and then some if he needed it - he was perfectly content with bussing on a regular basis.

Except for when the bus on his common route began to show up late or early every single time. He’d nicknamed the bus Gandalf - the damn thing apparently only showed up  _ precisely when it meant to _ . It would be cute if it weren’t for the fact that Prompto would be wheezing as he attempted to chase after it almost every day, and rarely did it stop to wait for him. Thankfully, his professors were understanding and didn’t mind if he was late, but  _ damn _ , just  _ why _ did Gandalf have it in for him, of all the people in the city? Were they, like, reverse bus soulmates or something?

Well, this morning’s kerfuffle ended up being entirely Prompto’s fault, but in his defense: the daydream he’d had in the shower that morning was  _ really good _ . After all, who wouldn’t want to dive into a gigantic bowl of ChocoCheeze Pleezers? Now he was starving, but it would have to wait until he got to campus. 

After hastily drying himself off with a towel, he combed his damp hair, hoping it would look presentable enough when it air dried on its own later. He idly checked the current time on his phone and cursed under his breath.  _ Dammit _ . He’d wasted that much time? His bus was supposed to be here in five minutes and he still had to get dressed, toss his books into his bag, grab his camera, and---

Just when Prompto was about to pull on his t-shirt, his eyes caught a glimpse of something he hadn’t thought about in years.

_ Tick, tick, tick. _

His heart pounded in time with the ticking.  _ Tick, tick, tick _ , went the time bomb, so loud that he swore his eardrums were going to explode.

For the first time in his life, the numbers on his wrist weren’t in the thousands. Hell, they weren’t even in the hundreds - written as clear as day on his skin were numbers that froze his core and his heart in its rhythm.

_ Five. _

Prompto stared. 

Five.

Five what?

Five minutes? Yes, it had to be five  _ minutes _ \- the number was in the correct column.

000000:05:34

Five minutes and thirty-four seconds.

Prompto didn’t believe in this kind of stuff. He didn’t believe in soulmates, or destined meetings, or any of that crap - but then why did he suddenly feel like he was going to pass out?

What if… after everything he’d been through, after all those years of denial - it was actually  _ true _ ? 

For the first time in thirteen years, Prompto didn’t slide that wristband back on his arm.

He glanced down at the clock on his phone screen again. 

It was now three minutes until his bus was supposed to arrive.

No way.

He didn’t want to accept the possibility, but…

Could it be… that his soulmate was on that bus? That bus that he was, without a doubt, not going to be able to catch in time now?

Never before had Prompto ever thrown his clothing on his body so fast. He was certain that he’d forgotten one of his text books under a pile of laundry - but he didn’t care. His feet took him as fast as humanly possible out of his apartment, down the stairwell, and finally down the street, rushing towards the usual bus stop. And of course, as his unique luck would have it, there was Gandalf, his bright tail lights blinking all the way up the street.

He’d missed it.

“Shit!” Prompto yelped. He could hardly breathe, the adrenaline and fear and excitement daring to suffocate him before he could even formulate a plan. As he stood there, frozen in place, something compelled him to look at his time bomb again, scared of what he might find there.

_ Ten minutes. _

Ten.

The numbers…. Were counting up?

_ Oh, no. _

The bus. He was right. He couldn’t believe it, but, it was the bus.

This bus was literally the bus he’d been waiting for his entire life.

No  _ way _ was he going to miss it!

“Hey!” Prompto yelled as he barreled through the crowded sidewalk. Arms waving in the air, he tried his best to flag the bus down, to get the driver’s attention, but Gandalf either didn’t see him or didn’t care enough to pull over for him, because off the bus went without a care in the world.

Tears stung the corners of Prompto’s eyes as he continued to race up the street. He was never the most athletic person in the world, but he found he was able to dodge various obstacles along the way with ease - children, elderly, dogs, mail boxes, poles, delivery men, bicycles - driven entirely by his will to finally embrace his fate. It was like destiny was testing him, laughing at him for trying so long to defy it.  _ Dammit, if this run isn’t a long-winded apology in itself _ , Prompto thought bitterly to himself, gasping for air as his steps began to slow.

He glanced at his wrist again.

Twenty. Thirty. Forty. The minutes were counting up at an impossible pace, the further up the street the bus went.

There was no way he was going to make it.

Just when he was ready to give up, though, it was like the Gods themselves had sent him a gift from the heavens: a random kid zooming around the corner of the intersection. Oh, but it wasn’t just any ol’ run of the mill zooming kid - it was a zooming kid equipped with a skateboard beneath his shoes.

It was crazy. Completely insane. There was no way it would work---

\---but he had to try.

_ Am I really going to Marty McFly this thing? _ Prompto asked himself as he turned and ran after the kid.

_ Yeah, I’m really gonna Marty McFly this thing _ , he concluded, as the next words fell from his lips before he could have a chance to stop them.

“Just gonna borrow this for a sec!” he yelped, stopping the kid in his tracks. Plucking the kid off the skateboard effortlessly like a bag of feathers, Prompto then hopped onto the board, his foot scraping the concrete hastily as he began to wheel down the sidewalk. “I’ll give it back later, promise!” 

“Hey!” someone exclaimed.

“Did he just---”

“Yeah, that guy just stole that kid’s skateboard!”

“I’m really sorry!” Prompto shouted over his shoulder.

He felt bad, and he doubted he’d be able to find the kid again after all this, but he was sure the Gods would forgive him for one teensy little sin. Did he even know how to ride a skateboard? Well, he did now. Prompto pumped his foot as fast as he could, rushing up the street much quicker than he had before. He could see Gandalf now - the bus was trapped at a red light just up the block. If he could only just go just a bit faster---

He glanced down at his arm.

As he traveled, the numbers on his wrist… 

...had begun to count down.

“Yessss!” Prompto hissed.

His joy gave him the fuel he needed to zip quicker up the street. The bus. It was _ right  _ there.  _ Right there _ . Surely it had to pull over to pick up someone at a stop soon, right? It would stop and let him on and then everything would be fine and dandy, right? In a perfect world, maybe, but in this world, the bus apparently wanted to just keep going. He was close -  _ so _ close - his legs were on fire and he swore he was breathing fire from the pain in his chest - but no matter how loud he shouted or how much he flailed his arms, the bus just wouldn’t slow down for him.

He was right on its tail, though - soon, he collided with the bumper as the bus rounded a corner. In his panic and surprise, he reached to grab the distended ledge just below the back window in true Marty McFly fashion, his body swerving to the right and colliding with the bus with a loud  _ thud _ .

He saw stars, but miraculously, he was still alive. And he was still, somehow, on the skateboard.

He didn’t think it was even possible to do this in real life, and yet, he he was, skateboarding behind a moving vehicle in true _ Back to the Future _ style.

He gasped for air, yelling something resembling  _ stop the bu _ s as his hands joined in with his legs in strain. He wasn’t sure how long he was going to be able to keep this up - he could feel his knees buckling beneath him, and his fingers ached while they clasped that sharp, small ledge… If he let go, what would happen?

_ Gods save me now, _ Prompto thought grimly.

Before he could further consider his inevitable demise… the bus began to slow down. Then, it pulled over, signalling to a halt.

_ Oh my Gods, did I do it? _ Prompto thought in disbelief. _ Wow. I actually did it. _

Discarding the skateboard, Prompto ran up to the door, ignoring the chorus of scolding from the bus driver and hooting and hollering from the rest of the bus riders as he scanned his bus pass. He wandered down the aisle in an absolute daze, heaving a heavy breath, then sat down on the nearest free seat. His forehead came to rest against the back of the seat in front of him, a cough escaping him. 

Was he dead? He was sure he was dead. But if he wasn’t dead, then he sure as hell was  _ exhausted _ . Did he even have lungs anymore? Because no matter how hard and fast he breathed, he just couldn’t seem to catch up. He felt utterly destroyed, and honestly, he was a little surprised he hadn’t passed out along the way. Why was he even running after the bus, again?

“Are you all right?” came an accented, smooth voice at his side, interrupting his train of thought. “I’d heard all of the commotion but as you can see, I wasn’t able to confirm the claims with my own two eyes.”

Prompto blinked. He completely forgot that he wasn’t alone in the seat. He glanced over at the composed stranger, curious to see who belonged to that calm voice, one that he couldn’t help but think  _ I’d listen to an audio book narrated by that guy sometime _ .

Ash-blond hair, and even while sitting, he could tell that the man was tall. Dressed in a modest leather jacket, the man wore a darkened eye visor atop the bridge of his nose, his hands sitting atop a cane cradled between his legs.

Oh, so  _ that _ was why the guy hadn’t seen his rad display outside.

“Were you truly hitching a ride on the back of the bus via skateboard?” the man asked curiously. “That was you, wasn’t it? Your breathing tells me so.”

“Yeah,” Prompto said with a laugh. “Yeah. I was.”

“Ah,” the man replied thoughtfully. “Reminds me of a film I had enjoyed some time ago.”

“Back to the Future,” Prompto said immediately. “Iconic, right?”

“Yes, that’s the one. I didn’t think such a thing was even possible in real life. Certainly not safe in any sense of the word.”

“Yeah,” Prompto agreed. He smiled crookedly, leaning back against the seat. “Totally not safe at all. But I recommend giving it a try sometime. Gotta say, it was a thrill, but  _ damn _ , I’m sure gonna feel that later. Dunno if it’ll be my glutes or my thighs or my  _ everything _ that’s gonna be burning, but it’ll sure be  _ something _ .”

The stranger laughed, an almost melodious sound. “Outrageous,” he mused. “And just what, pray tell, were you thinking? Surely you could have waited for the next bus to arrive instead of endangering yourself and possibly others?”

“Yeah, maybe, but…”  Prompto trailed off, swallowing a lump that had formed in his throat. “I... guess it’s true, then, that sometimes, people do crazy things if they’ve got enough of a reason to, huh? Like… if it was… fate, for example. Like… it was fate that led me to this bus, and… I  _ had _ to be on this particular one. Y’know?” He cleared his throat when the other man’s brow furrowed. “What about you? Do you believe in fate, er… sorry, I completely forgot to ask for your name.”

“Ignis,” the man replied curtly, a smile on his face. “And yes, as silly as it sounds, I do happen to believe in such frivolous things as fate and destiny. Sometimes, coincidences could perhaps be more than just mere coincidence. And what about yourself? Do you believe in fate, ah…” He paused.

“Prompto,” he offered. Somewhere along the way during their conversation, Prompto’s eyes had trailed south, glued to his uncovered wrist. He was shaking, eyes wide, unable to look away. 

“...I…” he began. His voice wavered as the ache in his chest grew. “I... think I do now.”

He could hear it again, that incessant sound that had haunted him for so long.

_ Tick, tick, tick _ .

This time, it wasn’t just a sound; he could feel it. He could feel his heart, ticking like a time bomb.

000000:00:00.

**Author's Note:**

> My Tumblrs:  
> [caseofthestolenspecs (FFXV)](http://caseofthestolenspecs.tumblr.com)  
> [saturnvalleycoffee (Misc/main)](http://saturnvalleycoffee.tumblr.com)


End file.
